


Dandelions are to First Year as Chocolates are to Fifth Year

by Laysan_albatross



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adults Flailing, Awkward Crush, Gen, One-Sided Attraction, Teen Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-16 18:44:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11258730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laysan_albatross/pseuds/Laysan_albatross
Summary: The Order of the Phoenix gathers on a dreary night and learns that Severus Snape’s teaching method was not as effective as some had thought.ORHow the enmity between Severus Snape and the remaining Marauders disappears with not the looming threat over Wizarding Britain but a teenager’s perplexing school-boy crush.





	Dandelions are to First Year as Chocolates are to Fifth Year

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed. Liberal canon interpretation and fudging. Minor OOC/AU (your favorite characters - now with 200% more inappropriate sass and comedic timing).

The Order of the Phoenix gathered at the dining room of 12 Grimmauld Place on a cold evening of snow drifts and flurries. The mood of the townhouse had brightened considerably since the members had received news of Mr. Weasley’s projected recovery and were happily mingling with tightly clenched mugs of hot Assam tea before the Headmaster of Hogwarts calls for their attention. Remus Lupin was chatting with Minerva McGonagall about various schools of thought regarding attention, memory, and learning of students while Sirius Black leaned heavily on his left side, silently demanding his daily requirement of human contact. Slowly the group transferred themselves into their respective seats around the table and helped themselves to Mrs. Weasley’s cooking – everyone, except for Snape, who was squinting into his mug of tea, tilting it right and left as if trying to divine his own omens.

Dumbledore stood at the end of one table and the room fell into a hush. “I’m happy to see that everyone is in high spirits with the good news. As I already told Mrs. Weasley, I will be personally paying for her husband’s treatment at St. Mungo’s.” Some members clapped heartedly. “Of course, well-wishes, charms, and flowers will not go amiss until the Healers deem him well enough to be transferred to either here or the Burrow for rest. I anticipate that we will be seeing him out of bed in a few weeks.”

“It’s good that the lad’s work will not be in vain,” Mad-Eye Moody grunted as he raised his cup in toast before tapping it on the wood, ignoring his fellows’ aghast looks, never the one who cared much for decorum. “The weapon is still safe with the Unspeakables, for now.” His magical eye swiveled to a spot behind him towards the door that lead to the main hall. Tonks made a noise of disgust as the glass pupil turned inwards to its socket, leaving a blank white sclera. Remus glanced at Moody’s line of sight and could just begin to make out a wiggling, flesh-colored rope.

“How are we going to prevent it from happening a second time?” Hestia Jones asked.

Moody snorted as he took a bite of ham, “Asking the wrong question there. You-Know-Who will not be trying again with the increased anti-beast securities that Croaker implemented after the hols. Wizard-folk cannot take the orb. Snakes cannot take the orb. Now all that’s left is You-Know-Who and Potter which,” he takes a gulp of tea, “we are working on.”

“I heard,” Nymphadora brightened, “My mum considered occlumency tutoring before I went to Hogwarts and again last year with the Goblet aftermath. How is that going? Isn’t his tutor-” Everyone turned to look at Snape whose glare caused the metamorphmagus’ hair to turn a shade of green, “oh.”

“Wonderful timing, Miss Tonks,” Dumbledore clapped his hands, “if I may move on to the next topic of our agenda – Harry’s ongoing occlumency training. Everyone read my short summary of Occlumency and understand why Harry needs the skill?” Everyone nodded, “Then, Severus, if you will.”

Snape’s skin, impossible as it seems, blanched even further as he stood to his feet with the aching slowness of a man walking to the noose, causing eyebrows to raise in askance. The Potions Master was known for his dislike of meaningless theater and delays so to have him visibly show his extreme reluctance to part with needed information... Naturally, Sirius pouched on the perceived weakness, “Well, hop to it,” only a well-deserved stomp on his foot prevented the man from using his school-derived nickname. “You aren’t making things hard for my godson, are you?”

Sirius’s voice shook the Potions Master from his semi-stupor, at least enough to return the taunt with a sneer. “Headmaster,” Snape began, trying to communicate something with his mere gaze, “Perhaps I can give my report in a more private setting.”

With a room consisting of mainly Gryffindors, this only raised the curiosity of the inhabitants. “Hold up. We are all Order members here,” Hestia Jones interjected. Moody’s magical eye again flickered at the extendable ear.

“No need to act outraged, Jones,” Snape treated the woman as if she was a student, which she had been, many years ago, “This has nothing to do with Order business.” He took a deep breath, “Albus, I will not be able to continue the boy’s private lessons.”

Dumbledore frowned, whether it was from the news itself or from the sudden informal address, used to highlight the personal-nature of the matter, Remus could not quite tell. “If it’s about Harry, then I should be naturally involved,” Sirius demanded, to which Snape adopted an expression that quite clearly conveyed his thoughts on the matter.

“The boy is family,” Mrs. Weasley nodded in a rare moment of alliance with the ex-convict.

“The reason why you can’t continue the lessons is not related to Voldemort?” Dumbledore asked. Snape predictably flinched at You-Know-Who’s true name and nodded.

Nymphadora drummed her fingers against the table, “There are four reasons why master-pupil occlumency lessons would stop. One would be that one of You-Know-Who’s people found out about the arrangement, but that isn’t it…” She stared at the grain pattern of the wood as she attempted to recall her mother’s teachings. Next to her, Sirius crossed his arms as he perused his own memories, vaguely familiar with the esoteric arts due to his dark background.

Moody laughed, “Everything about the boy is related to the Dark Lord. I’m bet my eye that You-Know-Who would be chomping at the bit for even the boy’s dessert preferences.”

Professor McGonagall arched an eyebrow, “Some students are simply incapable of mastering specific branches of magic such as occlumency due to the inherent ways the mind can be structured. Occlumency requires organization of one’s thoughts and is unsuitable for a mind too chaotic.”

“That can’t be it,” Sirius waved a hand, “The old snake here would be gloating instead about how ‘Heroic Potter isn’t as amazing as we thought.’”

“Headmaster.” Snape made one last entreaty.

“So two options left,” Sirius continued gleefully, smelling the proverbial blood. “And we all know Harry isn’t catatonic, or he better not be, which leaves…” Everyone in the room saw the exact moment his smile slid off his face and his skin tone matched that of the Potions Master. At the same time, Nymphadora came to the same conclusion and tipped her drink over, accidentally flipping her fork with an elbow, causing peas to fly and land into Fletcher’s plate. Fletcher made a token protest.

“Speechless, Black?” Snape drawled.

“No.” Sirius gasped with horror.

Snape grimaced. “Unfortunately.”

Sirius launched himself to his feet, drawing yelps and wands being summoned into ready hands. Remus had a sure grip on Sirius’s wrist and squeezed in warning. Sirius decided not to leap across the table and strangle the Slytherin head of house and instead raised a shaking finger at his old school-nemesis and sputtered, “You caused this! Somehow you lead an innocent boy into believing that he holds-”

“Don’t delude yourself. I did everything in my power to ensure his and all of Gryffindor’s animosity towards me,” Snape paused, “Or, I had thought I did,” he grudgingly corrected himself.

“Severus,” Professor McGonagall frowned, “All the complaints I’ve been receiving from my lions are true? You took points off from students just for breathing too heavily?!”

Snape turned towards McGonagall with an incredulous look. “Minerva,” he said slowly, “I didn’t gain my reputation and the trust of my snakes and their parents by being nice and fair.”

Her lips pursed in displeasure, “I defended your actions to my youngest.” She accused. “Your behavior caused children’s education to suffer!”

Hair still cycling through various shades of green, Nymphadora recovered from her own shock enough to raise a hand and weakly interjected, “In the greater view of things, it’s understandable, him being a spy. His class wasn’t as bad as you think – strict and mean instead of just mean. My brewing scores at Auror training could not have been higher. Even Mad-Eye was impressed.”

Sirius slammed a fist on the table, causing everyone to jolt back, and growled. “Not. The. Point.”

Snape’s well-known temper finally reared its head as he snarled back, “You cannot possibly be blaming this revelation onto me. I am the one who is trying to bring the dynamic back to an ideal status quo. To fix this, I need a third party to mediate and I’d rather it not be you seeing the disaster that you wrought when I had given the boy his orientation. The Headmaster will not volunteer due to his apprehension with the connection Potter has with the Dark Lord. The list of adults that he trusts is very thin.” He paused, stare fixed upon something beyond the peeling walls of 12 Grimmauld Place. “I am willing to accept Lupin.” Not McGonagall, not any of the Weasleys, but Lupin, the werewolf, the werewolf which almost mauled Severus Snape many years ago - _He must be very desperate_.

“Without me there?!” Sirius objected, “Over my dead body!”

Just as Snape was about to retort with an acerbic comment that will no doubt cause both grown men to lunge at each other and start a muggle fistfight over the dining table, Hestia Jones finally lost her patience and summoned apparition-loud crack to call for attention. “We are all adults here,” She said with gritted teeth, swinging her wand point that glowed the dull red of a stunning spell from person to person, “Now, can someone please explain to me what is going on?”

“MY GODSON FANCIES HIM!” Sirius howled.

And there was silence.

One by one, members of the Order’s attention drew towards the ‘scritch-scritch’ noise by the door leading to the main hallway and watched as three extendable ears courtesy of the Weasley twins wiggled back into the door crack and out of sight.

“Well.” Dumbledore said. “Meeting adjourned. Remus, Sirius, Severus, with me, please.”

* * *

“Are you certain, Severus?” Dumbledore steepled his fingers against the marbled counter in the kitchen, wand set back into his sleeves after arranging the proper privacy wards.

Snape was pinching the skin between his brows just above the bridge of his nose, “In our first lesson, the boy brought forth memories of Petunia smacking him across the head with a frying pan along with other scenes of his idyllic home life sleeping in a cupboard in an attempt to distract me from his other inner thoughts.” His lips curled when Dumbledore flinched. “We will be speaking about his upbringing later, mark my words, Albus.”

The Headmaster took off his spectacles to wearily wipe his brow, “I had hoped his aunt had heeded my letter- perhaps the rule but not the spirit. Yes. We will address this later.” He gestured, “Please continue. So, you were made aware of his… regard in your second lesson?”

“I’ve received troubling glimpses that has made me aware.”

“Was it only flashes?” Sirius piped up hopefully. “You can’t get much out of that. Maybe it’s an overblown misunderstanding.”

“Yes, Black, an overblown misunderstanding. Visions of myself performing provocative sexual acts during vigorous lovemaking can be interpreted as anything else but a teenager’s wet dream.” Snape said flatly, if only to watch Sirius squirm, “If we access Dumbledore’s pensieve, I will gladly show you what I saw and then you can give me your thoughts on the matter.”

Dumbledore coughed, “No need. No need.”

Remus frowned in confusion, “This isn’t an unusual case though. Students often have these thoughts with younger teachers. During my year at Hogwarts, I’ve received many gifts from the student body of all ages. I ignored their affections and concentrated on keeping professional. Why can’t you do the same with Harry? It is unexpected but it’s manageable, isn’t it?”

“It’s a disaster,” Sirius moaned. Snape agreed and then looked disgusted at agreeing.

Remus turned to Dumbledore for answers. “Emotions are very influential in the mind arts and spells ranging from the Patronus to the Killing Curse,” Dumbledore explained, as Snape turned and poured himself his fourth cuppa. “I wouldn’t worry about feelings of hate and dislike in an occlumency lesson if there is at least trust, but love complicates matters. Love, even superficial infatuations, has the potential to warp and manipulate both parties of a teacher-student bond. Had the lessons continued, the admiration would have bled and transferred over to Severus in an irrevocable and unresisting manner.”

“And unless you wish for me to reciprocate the feelings of your best friend’s underage son and my student, I would like a solution.” Snape nodded, rubbing his temples, as Sirius groaned at the imagery. “I would happily stop these lessons if not for his connection with the Dark Lord.”

Remus stared into his empty mug, looking for an answer, and suddenly understood why Snape had been discerning tea leaves at the beginning of the Order meeting. “Is there anyway reverse this? Can we dissuade Harry if we told him outright? What about Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Seeker he had his eyes on in third year? I remember him telling me about her.”

“Ah, that. He owled me about that.” Sirius snorted, “They snogged before Christmas under the mistletoe and he called it ‘wet’.”

Remus blinked. “Wet?” He parroted, “That’s it?” Snape silently mouthed ‘wet’ in disbelief before shaking his head.

“He’s still trying for a date on Valentines but from my experience, that relationship is already over.” Sirius then perked up, “But that doesn’t mean there’s no hope. We can at least talk to him.”

“Which is why I need a mediator,” Snape insisted, “An unbiased, calm, sane,” he glared at Sirius, “mediator. We’ve been talking in circles and I’d rather not waste more of my time here.”

The Headmaster nodded decisively, “Agreed, Severus. Then, I will set up a time and date for young Mr. Potter. Keep your schedules clear for next Tuesday afternoon?” The three men exchanged glances and reluctantly agreed, “Excellent. Remus, you and I will be the main adults talking to the boy but the other two will be free to interject as long as they behave.” Sirius swallowed audibly at Dumbledore’s overly mild voice; Snape rolled his eyes but gave a respectful nod. “Good day, gentlemen.” They watched the elder wizard dismantle the wards with a careless wave of his wand and stroll out of the door. Snape drained his fifth cuppa and pours another. Remus was beginning to suspect that he had added alcohol to the tea pot some drinks ago when nobody was looking.

“What’s going to happen?” Sirius casted a tempus charm – 0000 – and yawned. “Will this work?”

Snape leaned against the counter and, uncharacteristically, dragged a hand across his face, “From what I gathered, those feelings had started in first year.” A puppy crush evolving into lust and apparently, nothing Snape ever did changed that opinion. “What do you think is going to happen?”

“We can do this,” Sirius announced resolutely to nobody in particular.

“First year,” Remus mused, finally beginning to see the faint outline of humor in the situation. “That is impressive. I don’t remember you ever being pleasant when I taught at Hogwarts. There must be something underlying all of this besides your attitude.”

“I’ll have an antidote for Amortentia ready by then.” Snape decided as if the antidote wouldn’t take five vigilant and sleepless nights to brew and as if the possibility that Harry was drugged by Amortentia was high enough to become a variable to consider.

“We can’t do this,” Sirius despaired, burying his face into his own arms.

“Um,” Remus worried, hovering over the two men.

“HOW,” Sirius wailed, voice muffled within his sleeves. “James told me that a Potter’s first love is a life partner but I am pretty sure he did not mean this!”

Snape hissed like an offended cat, “I am not bonding with anyone, you m-” Then, he forced himself into a calm mien with a few deep breaths and continued in his expected low tenor, “We will address Tuesday in a rational, step by step manner. First step is information. Therefore, I need more information.”

“And I need a drink,” Sirius replied. After silently glancing at Remus who shrugged, he casually and carefully ventured, “Up for high-class whiskey from my dearly departed mum’s cabinet, Snape?”

Snape hesitated before the need to forget overcame his distaste towards current company, “Yes.”

* * *

What a picture they must have made to the nervous young man who sat across the table with his father’s looks and his mother’s eyes. Remus had smiled reassuringly while Dumbledore clasped his hands and, with his usual twinkle in his eye, said, “Harry my boy, Professor Snape brought up some concerns regarding your Occlumency lessons with myself, your godfather, and Remus. I’m afraid we’ll need to ask you some questions about your relationship with one another.”

Harry glanced over Remus’s shoulder where Sirius and Severus (and to think that it took a sleepless, roaringly drunk night for Remus to finally acknowledge the man by his given name) stood, both surreptitiously nursing their hangovers with small sips of water as no one that morning was willing to brew the recipe for a hangover cure, ask assistance from a third party, or floo to the Hogwarts Hospital Wing. Thankfully, Remus sported only a mild headache that disappeared by breakfast thanks to his accelerated metabolism which allowed him ample time to prepare for the confrontation. Harry blanched but, impressively, only his ears turned mildly pink. “Headmaster,” he greeted, wholly ambiguous, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

Of course, Harry would be anticipating this session. Three extendable ears last night most likely meant that Harry, Hermione, and all the Weasley children heard every word yesterday. Remus could only imagine how that night was spent and how Harry felt. Mortifying would probably be the emotion topping that list. Severus, to his credit, did try to establish confidentiality before the truth was revealed. Albus genially continued, “I’m at a loss on a proper way to start this conversation. Why don’t you begin with what you are comfortable?”

What proceeded was the most awkward two hours Remus ever had the pleasure of experiencing. Harry Potter will later recall this interrogation as the most embarrassing memory he has, even worse than that time Sirius pulled him aside and asked him in the most round-about manner if he had to learn the many wonderful differences between wizards and witches. Sirius, when asked about this day, will pretend to not understand the question before rushing off on some errand that has demanded his sudden attention before hiding behind the draperies. Before the day was over, Severus would have pulled the memory out and stared at the white tendril, debating the merits of flinging the memory out the window or down a drain instead of his pensieve.

It turned out that Harry Potter’s first impression of Severus Snape was not through the first Gryffindor-Slytherin potions class but through his perusal through a personal copy of the self-updating edition of _Hogwarts: A History_. Severus Snape. Youngest man to ever have gained a Potions Mastery, world-renown expert in base buffers and rare-creature transformation manipulations. Most critics lament of his talents being wasted as a teacher of all seven years of Hogwarts Potion classes but the results cannot be denied: those that do manage to enter his NEWT classes were highly sought after, muggleborn or pureblood, post-graduation. “Bagshot’s still bitter about Dumbledore underutilizing you, isn’t she?” Sirius remarked as Severus summoned the text and flipped to the index to search for his own name. “Doesn’t explain a thing. Severus still treated you like shite, Harry.”

“That I did,” Severus hummed as he read his entry with a bemused expression.

Harry shrugged, carefully not making eye contact with any of the adults.

The first Potions lesson or disaster, depending on whether you were Neville Longbottom or not, did dampen Harry’s spirits towards the subject, but then a series of revelations came to the young Potter in the following years. One: Severus Snape was a Death Eater. Two: Severus Snape was an ex-Death Eater with Headmaster Dumbledore’s trust and narrowly avoided a stint in Azkaban due to his testimony before the Wizengamot. Three: Severus Snape was the head of House Slytherin with the full confidence of many children who most likely report their observations to their Dark Lord supporting parents. Ergo: his behavior in class could only be explained by his duties as a spy and his need to remain politic.

“You daft boy!” Severus interrupted with no small amount of frustration, “Did my vocal opinion of your father fly completely over your addled head for the past five years?”

The animosity between the Marauders and Snape was so well known in Hogwarts that even Bill Weasley and Nymphadora Tonks heard the lingering stories in their first and second years, long after all the aforementioned members had graduated. Knowledge of Severus’s hatred of the mere memory of James Potter did not translate over, in Harry’s mind, to hatred of James’ son due to one added ingredient: Lily Evans.

And how, one might ask, did Harry learn about his mother’s past friendships when every witch and wizard with few exceptions tended to talk only about his father’s companions? Why, of course, by adding copious amounts of alcohol into Aunt Petunia’s drink while slipping sleeping potions into Uncle Vernon’s scotch before questioning the woman and receiving a long-winded rant about “perfect Lily and the Snape child who every person should’ve stayed away from if they had a lick of sense.”

It was a positively Slytherin solution. “Mis-sorted,” Severus mumbled disbelievingly behind Remus. Sirius growled. Harry’s eyes flickered again over Remus’s shoulder, entranced by what could only be a pair of men (children) making an embarrassing spectacle of themselves. “Face it, Black. A lion would’ve confronted the source. No abused child ever gets sorted into Gryffindor.”

“Harry was plenty brave during---” Sirius yelped; Remus spun in his chair, anticipating the worse. He saw Severus, in an impressive show of strength, haul Sirius close by the collar.

“Look me in the eye and repeat after me,” Sirius adopted a mulish expression and crossed his arms, even as Severus’s patience grew visibly thin. “No abused child ever gets sorted into Gryffindor. Slytherin for survivors, Ravenclaw for those wishing for an escape, even Hufflepuff for those wishing for companionship after neglect, but never Gryffindor.”

“Gentlemen,” Dumbledore cleared his throat, “If I may bring us back on track.”

Remus turned back around and flinched. Harry had shrunken further into his chair at the suggestion of mistreatment, staring back with a sullen and defiant expression. “Look. I know that he’s not nice,” the boy insisted with a stubborn tilt of his chin, “But that doesn’t mean that he’s not good. He saved my life-”

“Due to a life debt, Potter.”

“- multiple times.” Harry leaned forward, palms flat on the table, “First year when Quirrell cursed my broom. Second year he taught us the disarming charm.”

“During a demonstration to show Lockhart’s incompetency.”

“Which I later used in the third task of the Triwizard Tournament to escape Voldemort.”

Sirius whistled, “Well, you can’t refute that. …Why are you looking at me like that? He had a point!”

“Third year he tried to protect Ron, Hermione, and I from Sirius before we learned about Pettigrew and then again when Remus transformed,” Harry concluded, tracing a ‘full moon’ shape into the dusted surface of the table, growing more subdued.

“Harry my boy,” Dumbledore stroked his beard, adopting an expression that seemed to double his age, “I am sorry about the trials that you have experienced within the magical world, but surely you’ve had other grown-ups caring for your well-being.”

“In first year, Professor McGonagall didn’t believe me when I told her that Voldemort was going after the Philosopher’s stone. The Troll Incident was never talked about and forgotten even though students nearly died trying to fight it. In second year, Lockhart tried to use Ron’s wand against…” He continued along this vein for another ten minutes, never losing steam, as if he had memorized a chronological list of all the adult figures he had ever met and wrongdoings that have wrought upon him. It was suddenly made aware to all the inhabitants in the room that there is an inexcusable number of people who have treated the boy poorly in his short life, so much so that he placed his remaining hopes on a man who hated and was tied magically to his line and showed him the minimum of basic human decency.

 _We failed him_. Remus realized with a sinking heart. _We all have in our own little ways._

“Um, Professor Snape?” Harry straightened in his chair. “I uh, want to thank you for a lot of things that I couldn’t before and, uh-”

“Eloquent, Potter.”

Harry glared but continued despite the other’s comment, “and I really look up to you and I like your work on the Wolfsbane potion and Dreamless sleep and Hermione once made me read your review article on harvest times and knife –” And then, he ran a hand through his hair in the exact same manner James did countless times when he was trying to talk to Lily so many years ago. Remus’s eyes widened and he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Sirius did a spit-take into his cup. If either Marauder had been doubting Severus’s claim that the infatuation wouldn’t disappear, well, this was proof enough.

“No.” Severus interrupted with a curious mix of flatness and horror, evidently also remembering the many instances James tried to woo his future wife.

“…What?” Harry questioned after a second of stunned belief.

“No.” Severus repeated without emotion, more to himself than his audience. “Headmaster, this has gone on long enough. I will be taking my leave and I will not be hearing anymore.”

“Severus,” Dumbledore began, pushing his chair back to stand. “If we can consider-”

“You will fix this, Albus.” Severus insisted as if no one had spoken, “Potter, we will not be continuing your Occlumency lessons. Your remedial potions have officially ended in all manner of ways.”

“Wait. You’re not going to acknowledge this?” Harry angrily gestured at the room, encompassing an entire sleepless night, “Are you going to pretend that none of this happened? You can’t do that! That doesn’t make sense!” Actually, the avoidant behavior did make sense in a Slytherin manner. Gryffindors called it ‘cowardly’ but others called it ‘self-preservation’.

“You,” Severus hissed, his magical aura curling around the corners, growing shadows and static, “are still a petulant, annoyingly persistent _boy_ who does not understand the sacrosanct pact made between a teacher and his or her students to ensure that incidences such as this would never occur. Nothing about this is remotely proper and I would never tie my name and line with your family and I honestly wonder if anyone would with your attitude towards the-”

“Oi, you are off topic,” Sirius waved a hand as if physically pushing the words aside, “besides, my godson is a catch.” Remus slapped a hand across his eyes. Not. The. Point.

> He vaguely recalled a memory of his childhood when he had reunited with his family at King’s Cross after finishing his first year. His father had collected his suitcase and squinted at his new friends who waved from their own respective family groups, “Potters, eh?” the elder Lupin had grunted.
> 
> Remus’s mother had observed the crowd, taking her son by the arm as they prepared to cross to the muggle world. “At least the Black and Pettigrew families are predictable. Potters are known to be only civilized if it benefited them, brash and headstrong otherwise.”
> 
> “Mum?” Remus tilted his head and received a pat on the head.
> 
> “Don’t you mind, Remus. I’ll need to owl Fleamont and Euphemia Potter over for tea next week. They are good people with a good son. Stubborn line. Never the type to let go.”

Severus breathed out harshly through clenched teeth, “Quiet, Black. Now you,” Harry stared defiantly back, “You will forget about this. You will change nothing. You will be _politic_. Am I clear?”

Harry’s own aura spread lowly across the room in mirrored stance. “…Sir.” He replied stiffly. Without another word, Severus turned and walked out of the room. Everyone left gave a collective wince as he slammed the door shut behind him, so hard the dust rattled from the ceiling and the lone hanging lamp.

Dumbledore took off his spectacles and peered through them and slowly cleaned them with the hem of his sleeve, “Severus has requested a fix. After weighing the risks and benefits,” he announced gravely as he stood up with naught a creak of joint and bone, “it seems that I will be replacing Professor Snape as your instructor in Occlumency, my boy.”

“Sorry for the trouble.” Harry nodded, eyes downcast. Dumbledore waved his worries away.

“I’m curious. Why didn’t you initially teach him?” Sirius queried as he walked to Remus’s left side.

“I had feared that I would prove an altogether tantalizing target for Voldemort if he learned that he could use Harry’s mind to access greater secrets.” The Headmaster explained, “I had hoped that by distancing myself from young Mr. Potter, Voldemort wouldn’t realize that he could use Harry as a personal attack against me. Alas we will be taking that risk now, but it is better than having a near-guaranteed scandal among people with different positions of power. Harry, come with me, I will need to ascertain your grasp on the basics before I can plan any further.” Harry glanced at Remus and Sirius with a worried expression; Remus smiled and gently shooed him from the table.

Dumbledore and Harry walked out of the room with haste, discussing the methodology of how one goes about clearing the mind, and then there were two. “Well,” Sirius sighed as Remus pushed the chairs back into the table, “That went about as well as expected. Bloody awkward though.”

“I am thankful for the lack of spell fire.”

“We’re really done with this whole farce,” Sirius marveled, “And it only took a day.”

“Hmm,” Remus hummed as he stepped out into the hallway.

“You don’t think so? There were a couple close calls. I thought Harry was about to pull out that obscure law about remaining heirs of dying family lines,” Sirius kept rambling as they made their way to the kitchens, “You know the one where they could demand a match of their choosing once they proved themselves to be mature before the Wizengamot. Snape would’ve fled the country.”

“I don’t read obscure law in my spare time, Sirius.”

“Harry doesn’t either. Well, at least until he comes to age and gains the seat on the Wizengamot. I think Snape is betting on ‘teenage fancies’ being temporary by the time he learns the family head duties. Bet you he’s hoping that the kid will grow out of it.” Lily Evans had once hoped for the same. Sirius winked, “For most, he would be right, but you and I both know how it’ll end up.”

> “Stubborn line,” Remus’s mother had said once, many years ago, “Never the type to let go.”

Remus poked Sirius in the ribs, “You know we can’t allow that. Be serious.”

“I am serious,” Sirius replied, petulant at the accusation that he would pair a grown man with an underage child, “It’s not going to happen under our watch.” He paused a beat, “But it is funny.”

* * *

Epilogue

Nearly a year has passed since the incident. Severus Snape proved that ignoring and denying a revelation through sheer force of will would eventually cause people’s interests to turn elsewhere. Harry’s fifth year finished with the Ministry withdrawing their influence from Hogwarts, Dolores Umbridge under investigation for misuse of a blood quill, admitted to St. Mungo’s in an incident regarding centaurs in the Forbidden Forrest, and a battle within the Department of Mysteries resulting in the public reveal of the Dark Lord. With these pivotal events, certain issues were pushed to the back of many minds. Human nature is a fickle thing.

The Order of the Phoenix convened on a Tuesday night at the dining room of 12 Grimmauld Place in October. The clock struck midnight as Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, tapped a spoon against the glass with a blackened hand, “--- currently training young Mr. Potter in the secrets I’ve gathered about Voldemort and hoped that we can glean a weakness together. Horace Slughorn is still quiet on some pieces of vital information but he reports to me during staff meetings that the boy’s potions are the highest of his class and that he has received his prized vial of Felix Felicis.”

Severus glanced doubtfully at the man, “Felix Felicis? NEWT classes? He is better than even Granger?”

“Maybe he thrives under Slughorn’s hand,” Nymphadora suggested and then cowed under the man’s glare, “Different people require different styles of teaching.”

“That is not possible.” Severus huffed as he crossed his arms, “He has neither the instinct to know knife techniques nor the intrinsic understanding on gaining maximum yields. It is incomprehensible that his skills over the summer suddenly improved enough for him to gain a sample of liquid luck, even if he practiced with Black over the summer.”

Sirius scratched his cheek, “He did mention an old textbook helping him.”

“Oh?” Moody growled as he uncapped his silver flask, “And has no one lectured him about reading books from unknown sources?”

“Mad-Eye,” Remus said exasperatedly, “It was annotated by a past Hogwarts student and left in a storage cupboard. I’m sure it’s harmless.”  

Moody was already working himself up to a rant reminiscent of a past spiel on how wand holsters prevent wizards and witches from losing their buttocks. “Harmless! So said Mrs. Stokke’s youngest when he found a children book and had to be hauled to St. Mungo’s two days later because he couldn’t stop reading? So said Mr. Nicolas Abbott when he tried to trim the edges of a welsh text on faerie rings and had his left hand blue for six years.”

(“Mad-Eye, no.” Nymphadora buried her face into her hands as Moody grew louder.)

“So said Emilia Shafiq when she picked up an encyclopedia on nineteenth century elemental rituals and became part of the text, a footnote on page forty-seven.” Moody slammed a fist onto the table and even the people who were expecting the noise jumped, “Constant Vigilance!”

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat as the audience slowly recovered their bearings, “I will look as soon as I return. Does this please you?” She demanded archly. Moody grunted and took a swig.

“It’s not going to be anything,” Sirius grumbled, “Harry already showed me some pages through the mirror. It’s a Borage’s _Advanced Potion-Making_ , old and used. I told him I could buy him a new copy if he was short on funds but he wanted the one with all the scribbles in the margin.”

“What did they say?” Moody pressed.

“Bloody awful handwriting. Some tips and short-cuts like how crushing the sopophorous bean with the flat side of a silver dagger gets more juice out than just cutting. Some spells too. Harry is positively smitten with the previous owner and showed me some examples of the commentary and humor.”

“Black,” Moody looked unimpressed, “You’d make a terrible Auror. A book that well-used has to have someone signing their name on the front.” Out of the corner of his eye, Remus noted that Severus was looking a bit pale and staring very intently into his mug of tea.

“I was getting to that,” Sirius protested as he wrinkled his nose, “It wasn’t a name, more of a moniker and it doesn’t really offer clues unless someone knows of a …Half-Blood Prince?”


End file.
